


Healing Hands

by shadowshrike



Series: Emerald Moon AU [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fantasy Fulfillment, Friends With Benefits, Light Angst, M/M, Mild sexual roleplay, No Romance, Pining, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 19:30:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20822624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowshrike/pseuds/shadowshrike
Summary: Although they hadn't talked much since his return, Dimitri calls Sylvain to his room in Fhirdiad to give him a hand with something. Sylvain's confused but eager to help his newly anointed king however he can.





	Healing Hands

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place after [Chapter 17 of Emerald Moon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20225992/chapters/49199099). 
> 
> I was expecting to do something more main plot-oriented as my next side story, but I needed another 'something completely different' way to flex my writing muscles, which apparently translates to more Dimitri and Sylvain smut with a smattering of angst. It also ended up being a much more casual tone than EM because I wanted this to be a quick, fun thing.
> 
> In case the tags are unclear, this fic contains someone pretending to be someone else during sex for the sake of fulfilling a fantasy. If that's not your thing, you'll want to give this fic a pass.

The last time Sylvain had seen Dimitri had been two nights prior, during Fhirdiad's celebration of their king's return. After Dimitri walked away from the keep’s balcony, Sylvain lost track of him. How could a man be expected to pay attention to politics when he had been given royal leave to enjoy himself however he pleased without Ingrid nipping at his heels? If his king wanted him to cut loose, Sylvain would obey, indulging every carnal instinct and base desire he could cram into a single evening.

It turned out the debauchery hadn’t been half as fulfilling without a lecture the next morning. Pathetic, how addicted Sylvain had become to the exasperated sighs and glares from his friends.

_ Always need to be the center of attention, don't you, brother? _ Miklan's voice jeered.

Sylvain ignored him. He had no interest in the words of dead men.

Still, he assumed the night had gone well. Dimitri had cried, sure, but that was because an entire kingdom worshipped his coming home like it was the Goddess materializing before them. Who wouldn't feel overwhelmed facing that? And that was without accounting for the five years of believing he had nothing left to live for but dead family and the friends who deserted him when he needed them most. Dedue had been smiling at the end of the day anyway, as much as he ever smiled, and there was no better proof everything went okay than that.

Which was why Sylvain was perplexed by a summons to Dimitri's room in the dead of night. As much as he'd like to think it was because the king wanted a friendly chat, Dimitri hadn't been doing much of that with anyone since they retook Fhirdiad. He’d barely done it before then. Regardless, one didn’t simply refuse a king or an old friend you owed more debts to than you could repay in a dozen lifetimes. 

Sylvain was surprised to find Dimitri’s wing of the keep deserted by palace guards. He must have sent them away. 

"You wanted to see me, Your Majesty?" he chirped, knocking on the door and hoping the new title didn't sound as strange as it felt on his tongue.

"Come in."

Sylvain shoved the door open (damn the door to Dimitri’s chamber was heavier than he expected) and gave his king a half-bow, unsure if he should be formal or casual. It wasn’t as though he had been given any context other than ‘the king wants to see you’. When Sylvain lifted his head, he realized how obvious the answer had been all along.

Dimitri was lounging among the voluminous pillows and silken sheets of his bed, wearing nothing but loose pants and his eyepatch. One stunning eye stared, half-lidded, at Sylvain. His long mane laid askew across bare shoulders in a way that screamed ‘I‘ve been making use of my royal concubines for the past three hours’.

That was as clear an invitation as Sylvain had ever seen, and he’d seen more than most. He swallowed.

As a student, Dimitri had been like the lush pines on the mountains at the edge of Gautier territory - ramrod straight but with shallow roots that would send him toppling whenever a strong storm blew through. Sharing a bed had been fun, as had testing how far Dimitri could bend before he hit his limits. It was light-hearted, friendly, and deeply cathartic to teach the inexperienced prince the joys of a warm, willing body back then.

Now Dimitri stood like Gautier's mountains themselves. Imposing. Regal. Stalwart. Like he had weathered nature's rage for years, never paying heed to the passing storms. Although, judging by the scars that crawled across his broad chest, he hadn’t escaped without mined out hollows if you knew where to look.

Goddess, did Sylvain suddenly have a hankering for mountain climbing.

"Close the door," Dimitri commanded. Sylvain complied with his authoritative tone before the order fully processed.

Okay, that kind of control was new. Hot as hell, too, though he didn’t dare say it to Dimitri’s face just yet.

Sylvain went for a broad smile and flirtatious wink to calm the mood. "Hey there, Your Majesty. I'm going to go out on a limb and guess you aren't inviting me here to fluff your pillows."

"Correct. I'm inviting you here for sex," Dimitri said. The sheltered, precious prince Sylvain had shared a bed with five years ago had never been able to say those words directly, but it seemed the king had no such reservations. "The same rules we used to have. If you don't want it, you can walk out that door, no questions and no consequences."

A quiet voice in the back of Sylvain’s head whispered that he should take the out. Something was wrong here for Dimitri to ask for no-strings-attached sex out of the blue, and an adult conversation was probably what his friend actually needed.

Sylvain viciously tuned out that little voice with practiced ease. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t have that conversation afterward. Dimitri was always more forthcoming in his post-coital glow, anyway. Or at least, he had been back at the academy.

Sylvain sauntered forward into the room, already starting to peel off his layers. “Alright. I can do that. What is it you’re after?”

Dimitri blinked once, slowly, as though he hadn’t considered what would happen if Sylvain said yes.

“You...ah…” His confidence faltered. There was the sweet Dimitri Sylvain remembered. “I want to...to pleasure you.”

Sylvain laughed, startled, and instantly regretted it when Dimitri shot him a look that was more embarrassed than scathing. “Sorry! I’m not laughing at you. Promise. Just...surprised. Usually, when a king invites you into their private chambers for this kind of thing you figure you’ll be face down in the sheets for the evening.” Dimitri’s eye turned from him, and Sylvain watched helplessly as every careless word piled more expectations about royal codes of conduct onto his already bowing shoulders. Shit, not at all what he intended. “Ugh, let me start again...that sounds amazing, Dimitri. I’d love to have you do that if that’s really what you want. I’m all yours.”

For a tense moment, he thought he’d run his mouth too far and Dimitri might send him away. But eventually, the king sighed, beckoning the now half-naked Sylvain towards the vast mattress and open space at his left side.

Sylvain wasn't sure why he dawdled. Being touchy was Sylvain's whole thing, damn the consequences. He didn't mind getting scolded by Ingrid or punched by Felix for his recklessness if it meant they knew he'd always be there for him. He hurt people and let them hurt him back, and it worked as well as anything could during war.

But Sylvain still paused before hopping into bed with Dimitri. Between his strength and introversion, Dimitri had never been a naturally physically affectionate person growing up, and half a decade of isolation made him worse. The only person who touched Dimitri without hesitation these days had been stuck in the infirmary for the past two weeks, chasing chess matches the same way Sylvain chased women. 

“Is something wrong?” Dimitri asked, waiting.

Sylvain shook his head. He flashed a brilliant smile as he crawled on top of the sheets next to his king. “Of course not. Just awestruck by your beauty.”

“What have I told you about using your lines with me?”

Sylvain’s laughter was soft, nearly as soft as his fingertips grazing against Dimitri’s cheek. The king closed his eye and shivered. The sweet stuff had always been Dimitri’s favorite part, Sylvain remembered. “I’m sorry. No pickup lines and no titles, right?”

“Right,” Dimitri whispered. His hand engulfed Sylvain’s, eye still closed as he pressed into the touch.

The quiet voice in the back of Sylvain’s head whined louder that something was wrong, and he was starting to agree with it.

“Hey...Dimitri?” he asked gently, careful not to jostle his hand. “Can I ask you why you called me in here tonight?”

Confusion muddled the king’s fine eyebrows as he opened a bright blue eye to stare back at Sylvain. “I thought I was exceedingly clear about that. I invited you here to share an evening of casual sex if you were amicable to the idea.”

A little chuckle slipped out. “No, I got that bit. You were plenty clear. But...why me? And why now? Don’t get me wrong, I’m always happy to help you out, but it isn’t like we’ve been spending a ton of time together since you returned, what with me having broken legs and all.”

“Right...I owe you an apology for that. As Felix pointed out recently, I haven’t been doing the best job of caring for my friends,” Dimitri said, and dammit, that was not what Sylvain was going for at all. Apologies made for terrible foreplay.

“Come on, don’t get down on yourself. I’m not mad. I just want to know what brought this on.”

Dimitri cringed and he released Sylvain’s hand, the aura of guilt so thick around him Sylvain feared he might choke on it. “...this was a mistake.”

“Come on, talk to me, I promise I won’t be upset,” Sylvain implored, snatching Dimitri’s hand back and throwing it around his waist. The king’s warm fingers laid limp against his skin. “Please, Dimitri.  _ Lean on me _ .”

Dimitri licked his lips, eye darting everywhere but Sylvain’s face. He’d never been good at refusing a direct plea from a friend. “It’s...I’ve been...bothered the past few nights by lustful dreams. Dreams I cannot act on.” He shook his head. “It’s wrong of me to ask you to fill in so I can be rid of them. Please believe me when I say I never wished to use you in the same way those women do, Sylvain, and I…”

“Whoa, easy there,” the redhead interrupted, laughing. He tapped Dimitri’s cheek. “Did you ever think maybe I don’t mind playing stand-in for you? I know you see me as way more than my family’s name or my crest. You’re the king, for Goddess’ sake. If anyone’s taking advantage of someone because of their station, it would be the other way around.” He grinned, running a finger down the dip of Dimitri’s neck and across the battle-scarred skin of his chest. “Besides, it makes it easier to tease you, and you’re hot when you get flustered.”

Dimitri scoffed, but his hand squeezed Sylvain’s side and a faint smile crossed his lips, so Sylvain guessed he finally said something right. “How do you intend to tease me if you don’t even know who I’ve been dreaming of?”

“Oh, I have my guesses. One guess in particular,” Sylvain purred.

“And who is that?”

“That handsome golden stag you’ve been growing so close to since we found you.” 

Dimitri choked on nothing and Sylvain buried his laughter against the meat of his shoulder.

“Have I truly been so transparent?” Dimitri muttered, a dusting of pink clinging to his cheeks that looked comically out of place for a man of his stature. “I only recently started having these dreams. I hadn’t so much as thought about sex since the war began, but the past days, my thoughts have started to wander when I’m alone...”

“Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure he hasn’t figured it out yet if that’s what you’re worried about. For now, why don’t you let me take his place? It sounds like you’ve got a few things you need to work out of your system.” Sylvain flaunted his sauciest smirk and wink, the one he’d perfected by watching Claude flirt.

Oh wow, that was an impressive hitch of breath from the king. Apparently, he hadn’t considered just how similar Sylvain and the man in his dreams could be, especially after Sylvain had spent a week visiting the real deal for hours every day. This was sure to be fun.

“Is that why you said you wanted to pleasure me? Because that’s what you did to him in your dreams?” Sylvain continued, relishing the way Dimitri’s fingers clenched against his back. “You know, I wonder if his thighs are as strong as mine. We’re both  _ exceptional _ at riding, don’t you think?” 

That finally got the king moving with a heady groan, kissing along Sylvain’s neck too hard to be comfortable and dragging hands down to shove his pants out of the way. His palms felt huge as they took a powerful grope at his ass. “Why must you always run your mouth when we do this?” Dimitri complained, as though he wasn’t clawing at Sylvain like a favorite cat toy.

“Because you love it,” Sylvain replied breathlessly. Dimitri hauled him up to have better access to the hard planes of his pecs. “And because you know he’d do it, too.”

Another moan and something hard grazed Sylvain’s knee. “Are you going to keep bringing him up all night?”

“If it’s the reason you’re treating me like you want to suck my soul out through my dick, then yeah, I think I will.”

Okay, he’d deserved the slap on his ass for that one. Sylvain’s laughter strangled into a broken moan when Dimitri grasped hard into the still-stinging flesh, the other hand tangling into red hair and giving it a firm tug backward as his lips found their way around a nipple. Fuck, he’d forgotten how intense Dimitri could be when he was properly motivated, and that was before he’d gotten huge and even stronger than before.

As much as Sylvain swore up and down he was a boob man first and foremost, there was something that really did it for him with a guy who could snap him in half. Dimitri might be the only one he’d met where he meant that literally.

Sylvain’s train of thought was derailed by teeth dragging across his chest and a finger running down his crack as the hand kneading his ass held it open. He groaned and his body arched, trying to get more of both sensations.

“Too bad I’m not...as flexible as him,” Sylvain panted as he squirmed. Some higher-functioning part of his mind that he’d shoved out of the way was mortified at how easily he was coming undone for Dimitri, even though his king’s handling was rough and unrefined after such a long period of abstinence. He was so hopeless when it came to sex with friends.

Lucky for him, Dimitri had never minded if his performance was less than stellar. He probably didn’t even realize Sylvain wasn’t at his best. He kept sinking further down Sylain’s body, kisses, licks, and bites scouring his skin, leaving marks Sylvain would wear as proudly as Felix did his training bruises. By the time Dimitri reached his length, it was near as red as the hair surrounding it, drooling and throbbing in time with the hands squeezing his ass.

Dimitri glanced up at him through wild bangs, his eye blown wide with arousal. “I got...a little carried away. Is this alright? It must be weird for you that I’m thinking about...”

Sylvain’s laughter sounded hysterical even to his own ears. “Goddess, Dimitri! Don’t you dare stop now! I don’t care whose cock you’re thinking about as long as you get your mouth on mine.”

“Can you…?” Dimitri started to ask. 

Sylvain was already ahead of him. He’d never forget what his prince, now king, liked best when giving a blowjob. He wound one hand loosely into Dimitri’s golden locks. A cool smirk played at Stylvain’s lips as he projected confidence through his unbearable excitement. He was sure Dimitri was seeing flashes of green in his eyes by the way his fingers twitched hard against him. 

“Like what you see?” Sylvain drawled. There were few things in Fodlan hotter than how Dimitri unconsciously tried to dip his chin into a nod but was stopped short by the hand in his hair. “Mm...me too. But I’d like it better if you had your lips around me, Your Royalness.”

Goddess above, was that a growl? Sylvain didn’t get a chance to decide because Dimitri was suddenly trying to take him in all at once, barely keeping his teeth in check as he jammed Sylvain repeatedly against where his gag reflex forced him to stop. It was all he could do to hold on. It should have been objectively not good, but Sylvain’s moans were pathetic whimpers, drowned beneath ferocious, wet slurps as his king debased himself before his knight. Or maybe the king was debasing himself before a foreign leader because that was clearly what Dimitri was thinking about, and fuck if Sylvain knew which fantasy was more scandalous because both thoughts did equally terrible things to his stamina.

“Shit...Dimitri...I’m gonna…” Sylvain whined. Dimitri clearly wasn’t paying attention because Sylvain was pretty sure that his king hated the texture of semen, even if he couldn’t taste it, but he didn’t pause a single beat in his cheek-hollowed mission to suck him dry. Sylvain made a half-hearted attempt to pull him off. He shouldn’t have bothered - it wasn’t as though he could ever hope to overpower Dimitri. The tug to his hair inspired a deep-throated groan from the king and the vibrations tipped Sylvain right over the edge.

Sure enough, when the first spurt hit the back of Dimitri’s throat, he gagged, waking from his aroused stupor. He pulled off, sputtering and coughing as Sylvain rode out his orgasm. Without Dimitri there to help him along, the knight’s hand left his king’s hair to pump himself through it, watching with open-mouthed rapture as he covered Dimitri’s face in his seed.

Shit, if he hadn’t already been headed for the Eternal Flames, he definitely was now.

“Damn...when did you get so passionate in bed?” Sylvain groaned, throwing an arm over his face. As incredible as the sight was, he couldn’t look at Dimitri while he rolled out of bed to clean up, still coughing.

“I haven’t been practicing with anyone else, if that’s what you’re asking,” Dimitri mumbled from somewhere on the other side of the room. “I guess I’m just a different man than I used to be.”

“Hey, easy there. I didn’t mean it as an accusation. It was a compliment,” Sylvain replied. The bed sunk down again and he deemed it safe enough to roll over and meet Dimitri’s eye again.

“I...thank you, then, I suppose.”

Sylvain sensed Dimitri was on the verge of wallowing in guilt again for some reason, which was patently ridiculous considering what just happened, but also a very Dimitri thing to do. Sylvain sighed, “Come on. Lay on your back. You aren’t going to relax until I take care of you, too.”

Dimitri shifted next to him, probably suddenly very aware of what had been rubbing against Sylvain during their little romp back there. “You don’t have to do that. I already feel bad enough that I…”

“That you sucked me off while thinking about someone else and I loved it?” Sylvain laughed, slapping him on the thigh. He gave Dimitri a soft shove and the king rolled onto his back without resistance. “Anyone ever tell you a little fantasy can be good for you? You clearly aren’t ready to talk to him about this, and I get that it might not be possible with the war and everything anyway, so what’s the harm?” His fingertips trailed down the sharp v of Dimitri’s hips, fingers hooking on the hem of his pants. “Isn’t this better than living trapped in your own head?”

“You swear I’m not taking advantage of you?” Dimitri murmured, entirely too serious.

“You have my word as a knight,” Sylvain answered just as seriously, knowing it was the only thing his king would believe. “Now, I want you to get your hands in my hair, close your eyes, and think of that handsome man who’s been haunting your dreams.”

He felt the shuddering breath that raced through Dimitri as he obeyed, his eye sliding shut and fingers rubbing against Sylvain’s scalp in a loose grip. Sylvain smiled, shoving the king’s pants out of the way. Dimitri had softened slightly with all their talking, but that would be easy to fix.

“Damn...you look even better than I thought,” he whispered, admiring his king’s battle-worn body with the gentle, doting kisses that always drove Dimitri wild. “I can’t wait to taste you, Your Kingliness.”

Sylvain laughed when Dimitri predictably lurched beneath him, trying to match the airy tone Claude used when he teased. It certainly seemed to work. Dimitri’s hips jerked up again, rolling hard enough that he lifted Sylvain clean off the bed, even with both hands trying to pin him down. 

That was more than enough taunting, much more and Sylvain might end up with some considerably less-sexy bruises than the few he’d already gotten.

As soon as he got his lips popped around the head of Dimitri’s dick, the king’s hands quivered in his hair. He dragged Sylvain down and the other man went with it, keeping his moans quiet enough not to disturb whatever fantasy was playing behind that closed eye. 

This wasn’t as fun for him as when he could push Dimitri around and whisper filthy things in his ear - there was something deeply satisfying about messing people up using only his words - but Sylvain had no intention of being a selfish lover tonight. If this is what his friend needed to keep balancing the world on his shoulders, then Sylvain would gladly sacrifice his ego for Dimitri’s peace of mind.

It wasn’t as though Dimitri was going to hold on long anyway. For all his complaints about Sylvain’s stamina in training (Sylvain would argue Dimitri’s inhuman endurance was a poor measuring stick), Dimitri never could hold out in bed, even when they’d been doing this at least once a week. Whether it was just a quirk of his or a side-effect of having less than a handful of people who’d ever touched him skin-to-skin, it made Sylvain’s job easier. Within minutes, Dimitri was done, kindly letting Sylvain pull off as the knight eased him through the spasms that wracked his body from head to toe, eye closed in bliss.

It was a good look for him, Sylvain thought as Dimitri sunk back into the mattress, utterly spent.

“Feeling better?” he asked mildly, patting the king on his side and getting up to retrieve a rag he could use to clean the mess.

“Marginally so, yes,” Dimitri slurred. He shut his eye and let Sylvain work, a rare show of trust that the knight treasured. “Thank you, Sylvain. I know much has changed between us, but I hope you understand I still consider you one of my dearest friends. I would be lost without you at my side.”

Sylvain’s hand stilled. 

“I promised you I’d always be there for you,” he replied, surprised by the bitterness of his voice. 

Dimitri smiled and cracked open his eye so he could see well enough to touch his knight’s cheek as tenderly as Sylvain had done to him earlier. “You’re here now, despite all I have done. That’s all that matters to me. I hope you’re willing to stay.”

Sylvain only realized a tear had tried to fall when Dimitri’s thumb brushed against his lower eyelid.

“Until the end,” he whispered. “I swear.”


End file.
